He resents the fact that he has to be here, celebrating the arrival of Dave’s breeder. But when the king himself insists that anyone of any importance attend, there’s nothing that Kurt can do but to obey.

And look for the first possible moment to leave.

After a few minutes of standing around, Kurt hears the muted conversation surrounding him turn into excited whispers as the doors to the hall are opened.

He turns, craning his neck like all the others, curious despite himself as to who James has managed to find for Dave.

He can’t quite catch a glimpse however, not with everyone surging forward, all of them eager to meet Dave’s breeder, the one who will give Dave a child. Everyone expects a male; Dave’s preferences have been known for some time. The curiosity comes from seeing what this boy is going to look like. It’s become a game, to see who can get the youngest and prettiest mate.

It takes a while for Kurt to be able to spot the new couple, but when he does, his pulse beats just a little faster.

It’s not because of Dave. He’s known the man for years and can barely stand to look at him. It’s the smaller man standing at his side that’s evoking this reaction. He makes a mental note to congratulate James on the find. The boy is pretty, really pretty, nearing on beautiful with that dark curly hair and those full lips.

He looks tired and bewildered and more than a little frightened but that doesn’t distract from his beauty. In fact, if Kurt is being honest with himself, there’s something about that vulnerability that enhances it.

He steps forward decisively, cutting in front of a few people that have been waiting patiently to speak with Dave.

“David,” he says, barely looking at Dave at all. His gaze, appraising and searching, is mostly on Dave’s acquisition.

“Kurt,” Dave says. He looks unbearably smug, enough that Kurt is tempted to just turn around and walk away.

But the pretty, vulnerable boy in front of him holds him there.

“Kurt, this is Blaine. Isn’t he great?” he says, leaning in. “Pretty, right?”

“He’s very nice, yes.” He turns to Blaine and gives a small smile. “Hello, Blaine.”

Blaine stares at him, eyes widening before he catches himself and stutters out the word “hi”.

Blaine’s voice is nice too; husky, yet not as deep as Kurt had been expecting considering his build. He wants to hear it again and he finds himself disappointed when Dave begins to move away, already greeting someone else.

He watches as Dave pulls Blaine away, watches as Blaine turns his head and looks back, their gazes meeting for a fleeting second before breaking apart.

Kurt takes a sip of his wine and thinks that perhaps this party wasn’t a colossal waste of time after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blaine gazes through the expanse of the Great Hall and, despite everything that has happened to him, can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of awe and wonderment. The palace and its surrounding properties are larger than his entire town, larger than anything he’s ever seen in any textbook. It certainly dwarfs the parliament building of his own impoverished country. And this hall is worthy of wonderment all on its own. It’s huge and there are hundreds of people within it and he’s never seen so much food and drink in his life.

He follows dutifully behind Dave as they make their way through the throng of people, stopping whenever Dave stops to speak to someone. He tries not to let it bother him, how everyone looks at him, how everyone talks about him, as if he’s nothing more than a possession. Which, he supposes he is, but he still resents that none of these people can even bother to try and see him as more.

But no, that’s not quite right, he thinks as he’s dragged over to yet another person who’s name he will never remember.

There have been some people who did not treat him that way. Only a handful, but they had been kind enough to look him in the eye and speak to him instead of about him. Women mostly, but there had been one man. He had been young, with clear blue eyes and delicate features.

His name had been Kurt, Blaine thinks. Yes, Kurt, that was it.

He startles out of his thoughts as Dave thrusts a glass into his hand and tells him to drink.

He does, almost without thought, glad for the warmth that suffuses his body even if it does burn his throat.

After what feels like a lifetime, Dave finally turns to him and tells him that they’re leaving. Blaine nods and sets his glass down. It’s his second, and he’s feeling a little fuzzy from its effects. He follows Dave, glad to be leaving the hall but apprehensive about what’s to come.

He tries to ignore the cheers and clapping that erupt in the hall after everyone realizes that they’re leaving.

Dave pumps his fist in the air as if he’s celebrating some great victory. Blaine just tries not to feel ill.

He lets Dave guide him through the endless maze that is the palace, up elevators and through corridor after corridor; until he’s certain that he’ll never be able to find his way back down.

“I’ll give you a real tour tomorrow, ok?” Dave says, as if reading his mind.

Blaine nods absently, far too lost in his own fears to fully focus on anything happening around him. He comes to an abrupt stop when Dave does, and only then does he notice where they are. He watches as Dave fumbles with the keys to the door in front of them, watches as he finally gets the door to open.

And then they’re walking inside and Dave is turning on the lights and guiding him with a hand to the small of his back.

It’s nice enough, Blaine supposes. The suite has a living area, a bedroom and its own bathroom.

Dave shows him around, ending the tour in the bedroom. “So, what do you think?” he asks.

“It’s nice,” Blaine says. He stares at the only bed. Is it too much to hope that he’ll be allowed to sleep on the couch? “It’s all very nice.”

“Good. Yeah. I’m glad. I think you’ll do all right here, Blaine.”

He turns his head. Dave had at least four of those drinks and it’s fairly obvious that he’s either drunk or very close to it. “You think so?”

“Everyone loved you. Did you see that? Everyone was staring at you.”

“I . . . yeah I noticed.”

“They want you. All of them. And they can’t have you.” Dave reaches out, hand wrapping around Blaine’s wrist and tugging him closer. “You’re all mine.”

Blaine tries to pull back, but Dave’s grip is strong and insistent. “I . . .”

Dave tugs again, harder this time and Blaine stumbles towards him, landing against his chest. Dave brings an arm around Blaine’s waist, holding him close and still.

“You can shut up and kiss me now,” Dave says.

Blaine doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but before he can do either, Dave’s lips are upon his. The kiss is rough and insistent and after a few shocked seconds, Blaine gives in and opens his mouth and accepts it.

It’s like no kiss he’s ever experienced; neither sweet nor wanted and heated in all the wrong kind of ways.

He decides that he doesn’t like kissing Dave, at least not like this. It’s too hard and too fast; too sloppy. He tries to pull away, but Dave keeps him still, anchoring him with his hands.

After a moment, Dave’s hands begin to roam, one underneath his shirt and pawing at his back, the other edging down until it cups between his legs.

Blaine manages to jerk back, his hand coming up to his mouth as if to wipe the kiss away. “Can we just . . . just slow down a minute?” he asks, trying to catch his breath.

“Why? I mean . . . we’re here. We’re alone. Why wait?”

“It’s just . . .”

“I’ll use protection,” Dave says as he pulls Blaine toward him once more. “Until the doctor can clear you tomorrow of any, you know . . . diseases. I’ll use a condom.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?”

Blaine hesitates. It’s not that he’s embarrassed about what he’s about to confess, not exactly. It’s more the fact that this is a private thing and that Dave is still essentially a stranger. He feels as if he’s being forced to say it, as if it’s being ripped from him. “I’ve never . . . I’ve never done this before.”

It takes Dave a few seconds to connect the words to their true meaning. When he does, he takes a step back, looking both surprised and delighted. “You’re a virgin?”

Blaine looks down, blushing, and stays silent.

Apparently, silence is answer enough. “Oh, this is too perfect. I mean, they had said you were, but sometimes people lie, you know? To get a better price. But you really are a virgin?”

Blaine can feel himself blushing even hotter now and he’s starting to wish the ground would just open up and swallow him up. This isn’t the reaction he was hoping for from Dave, this isn’t the reaction that his confession deserved.

“Look, don’t worry,” Dave says, growing serious. “I’ll take it easy on you. I won’t hurt you.”

He reels Blaine back in for another kiss, and yes, it’s softer than it was before, but it’s still not right. It’s still not welcome.

“A virgin. You’re gonna feel so fucking good,” Dave whispers, moving so his mouth is against Blaine’s throat. “Fuck, you’re gonna . . .”

And then Dave’s hands move back to Blaine’s waist, somehow slipping past the waistband of his jeans and gripping him hard.

Blaine reacts on instinct, gasping and stepping away, his hands pushing at Dave’s chest. This isn’t how this is supposed to feel. Even with his limited experience, he knows at least this much. It’s too much, too fast, and he feels like he can’t catch his breath.

The slap, when it comes, is completely unexpected. Blaine had just been about to ask Dave again to please move more slowly. He was about to suggest that they talk, get to know each other.

But then Dave slaps him, the back of his hand connecting with Blaine’s cheek, and it hurts. It sends him stumbling backward, hand against his mouth where it stings.

“I said I wasn’t going to hurt you,” Dave says, angry now, his face contorted so that it’s ugly and frightening.

Blaine almost laughs at the irony of Dave’s words. Almost. He straightens and backs away, stopping only when the back of his knees hit the bed.

“You see what you made me do? Do you see that?” Dave asks, advancing upon him.

Blaine falls onto the bed and scrabbles backward to the middle of it. He looks around frantically, trying to decide which way to go, when Dave pounces on him, pushing him down to the mattress.

“Stop it. Just stop,” Dave growls.

Blaine does, going very still. It’s not as if he has much of a choice. Dave is straddling him, trapping his legs and pinning his arms down at his sides. He can barely move anyway.

“You can’t fight me, you know that right?” Dave says, his voice low and harsh in Blaine’s. “I own you now, Blaine. This is what you’re here for. So just give in. It’s gonna be a lot easier if you give in.”

Blaine turns his head and, focusing on the wall, lets his thoughts drift. He has no rights. Not until he receives the gold bracelet and even then they’re so limited. But now, with the silver bracelet around his wrist, he is nothing. He could fight Dave, but that’s a punishable offense, not just for himself, but for his family back home. If he doesn’t behave, he’ll be seen as damaged, defective. The price, he decides, is too high. He can’t risk it.

He won’t risk it.

He nods, giving his permission even though Dave truly needs none.

He can feel Dave moving above him, shifting so that he’s no longer holding him down. And then Dave begins touching him, ridding him of his clothes so that he can touch him even more intimately. The only positive is that Dave doesn’t seem to require Blaine’s participation.

So he lies there and waits for it to be over, enduring the kisses and the probing fingers. And maybe Dave tries to be gentle . . . maybe . . . Blaine truly can’t tell. But it doesn’t matter, because in the end, as Dave finally enters him and begins to move . . . in the end, it hurts.

And Blaine will always remember that it did.